Sail Me Away
by I-Walk-in-Eternity
Summary: A young Captain Hook meets Peter Pan, the boy who changed his life. [Hook x Peter slash] [In Progress]


Yes, I wrote _Peter Pan slash. _I am _that damn depraved._

Well, I'm half asleep right now, so I'll just get down to it.

Disclaimer: Peter Pan belongs to... That guy Johnny Depp played in Finding Neverland :D stfu, I'm too lazy to look it up right now...

Warnings: Shounen ai, slash, male/male. Though nothing explicit in this chapter (sadly).

And on we go.

* * *

Twelve year old James Hook sighed, His deceptively-clear indigo eyes scanning the moonlit sea outside his porthole window. Idly, he skimmed the book in his lap while twirling a strand of his shoulder length black hair, not really reading or taking anything in. It was almost midnight, and the gentle lap of the sea should have lulled him to sleep, but it only made him thirst for the one thing he wanted more than anything- freedom. He'd thought he'd find that freedom sailing the high seas with his pirate father, but alas. Jim craved _adventure_, not his father's petty thievery. He wanted to fight, he wanted to fear for his life, and damn it all if he didn't want to find someone in this god-forsaken world that really _understood_ him.

Jim thought of his mother- A tavern wench, a whore; She'd reluctantly raised him all his life, since the night she'd 'made that awful mistake' with his father, as he was told. Jim despised her, but no more than she despised him, which she'd made painfully obvious every day.

For years Jim lived with her, until he turned eleven, and decided to change his life, like he knew she'd never change hers. He'd heard some of the tavern girls gossiping about the infamous Captain Hook coming ashore for supplies, (He'd known the Captain was his father since he could talk, as his mother cursed him every single day,) and he was off. Packing his few belongings into a cloth satchel, he trudged out to the bay, not bothering to say goodbye. He'd marched up onto the gangplank of his father's ship and, much to the crew's dismay, planted himself directly to the right of the Captain, his legs shaking, but his gaze fierce and strong. Hook looked down at him inquisitively, and Jim almost gasped as he saw the long white scar over his father's eye.

"… And what would _ye_ be wanting, young fellow?" Hook inquired, his voice brimming with a degrading mirth. Jim gulped, but thankfully, his voice didn't crack.

"I want in." Jim stated, and he even had the courage left for one little smirk before the captain began to howl with laughter.

"HAH! And what exactly do ye think ye've got goin for yeh, that I would possibly want ye in me crew?" Hook mocked. Jim stayed strong.

"I'm your son." He proclaimed. The look on his father's face was priceless, his mouth a perfect "o", before his countenance regained its old ridiculing gaze.

"Well, I suppose I could use a deck hand, but don't expect me to go easy on you." Hook replied.

And he was true to his word. In fact, far from getting special treatment for being the man's son, he seemed to be treated far worse than any of the other men. It was his old life all over again. Only this time he had nowhere to run.

Jim felt tears springing to life in his eyes. It wasn't _fair,_ he thought. Weren't parents _supposed _to love their offspring? Weren't they supposed to at least _care? _Jim sighed, staring out the window again. Suddenly the room suffocated him, suddenly, he needed to get _out; _he had to see the night sky.

Unlatching the bolt to his room, Jim smiled at small miracles. It was more a cupboard with a window and makeshift hammock, but it had been his father's one gift of sympathy. Sometimes the other sailors just found him too damn… Pretty. Jim shook his head and made his way to the deck.

- - -

'_Aaaaah' _Jim thought as the serene midnight wind caressed his skin- The sea was truly beautiful at night. Purposefully, he climbed the rope ladder to the crow's nest, and sunk into the basket, his closeness to the moonlit sky calming him already. Suddenly, as he was about to close his eyes, what looked like a figure in green flitted across his view, disappearing behind a sail. Jim shot up.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" He shouted, though not quite loud enough to wake the crew. In reply to his call, a head popped out from behind the sail.

… A _floating_ head.

Jim rubbed his eyes. A green-clad body followed from behind the sail, floating curiously over to where Jim stood gazing in a dazed stupor. Bored with his lack of response, the mysterious boy waved his hand in front of Jim's eyes, awakening him from his trance.

"Whaa-?" Jim asked, for the first time getting a good look at the boy. Soft, inquisitive brown eyes stared from beneath matted copper tresses, though they shone magnificently in the silvery glow of the moon. The boy, for he couldn't be any older than Jim himself, was slim, but he was also fit- Jim could see muscles rippling through the misleadingly tight-fitting tunic.

"Whatcha lookin' at?" The boy asked, a laughing, melodic voice so unlike any Jim had ever known. He blushed deeply, tearing his eyes from the boy's toned chest.

"N-nothing." He stammered. Then his curiosity got the better of him. "Are… Are you really flying?" The boy smiled.

"Yep!" He announced proudly, zooming around the mast before coming back to his spot in front of James, floating so effortlessly in midair. Jim stared in awe; then, unable to contain his jealousy, he averted his eyes.

"What's wrong?" The boy asked, confused, bringing a soft hand under Jim's chin and forcing him to meet his gaze. Jim blushed again, and looked away.

"It must be so… Freeing." Jim said, holding back the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. He thought of the bluebirds- how many hours had he watched them for, from his stuffy room above the tavern? The bluebirds that, if they were unhappy with their life, could fly off in an instant and start anew? How he'd envied them.

"Wanna try?" The boy asked, noticing Jim's sadness. The dark haired boy's head immediately shot up, his ocean-blue eyes wide with shock.

"But how?" He asked, breathless at the prospect. The boy smiled.

"Well my pixie's flown off again, so I'll just have to help you." He said. And without another word, he dove down into the crow's nest and scooped Jim up bridal-style. Jim cried out and latched his arms around the boy's neck, only to blush as he suddenly realized the proximity of their faces. But he didn't move away.

"What's your name?" he whispered at the smiling boy.

"Peter." The boy replied, chocolate eyes dancing with unspoken laughter. "Peter Pan." Jim nodded.

"I'm James. James Hook." He replied. "But you can call me Jim." He added quickly, with a smile. "It's what my friends call me." Jim said; well it wasn't a _total _lie, he told himself. If he ever got any friends, they'd call him Jim, and that was that. But the word seemed to strike Peter.

"Friend?" Peter asked curiously. "I haven't got any friends… Well, besides Tink." He said, though without the melancholy sorrow Jim would have expected after such an admission. No, in fact, the smile stayed plastered on his face, as if he were talking about the weather.

"Will you be my friend, Jim?" Peter asked, his eyes serious now. For some reason, Jim's breath caught in his throat at the look on solemn Peter's face.

"Of course." He said, resting his head on Peter's chest, smiling. Peter grinned.

"Then I have something to show you." He said as he zoomed off into the air, causing Jim to emit strangled sort of yelp and cling tighter to his shoulders. For some reason this action only made Peter grin more.

"So where are we going?" Jim asked after a few minutes of flight, having relaxed against Peter once more. He didn't want to admit it, but in the boy's arms, he felt… Safe. Wanted. These thoughts caused Jim to smile as Peter's musical voice reached his ears again.

"You'll see." He answered cryptically, dodging a few clouds. Jim was intrigued, but didn't press the subject. Peter was right, he'd know soon enough. For now, he relaxed against the boy, content with just listening to his heart. The beating sounded in his ears, warming him like no fire ever could…

_The beating…_

_The bluebird…_

And he was fast asleep.

- - -

Part two should be up soon, but right now it's 6 in the morning, and the caffine's wearing off. ;)

Reviews keep the evil penguins at bay:3


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